


Thinking

by CarrotsandDragons



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Custom Hawke, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Character of Color, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 13:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12082155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrotsandDragons/pseuds/CarrotsandDragons
Summary: It's a slow day at the clinic and Anders thinks about his lover...Explicit Sexual Content





	Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> Another One From Tumblr .  
> This one's a little different -- I'm experimenting with present tense!

He’s been thinking about her. Between long stretches of writing and tending to his patients, Anders has been thinking of her smile—the way her lips curl into a crooked beam before erupting out in laughter, and the lazy morning grins that greet him ‘hello.’

He thought of her lips, warm and wet against his own when he kisses her good morning, the way they part as he slides her nightdress up above her knees, and how irresistible she looks with her fingers pressed against them, mouth agape with sighs and moans as he dips beneath the bed sheets.

Only a few short days have passed since they first fell into rhythm together so he isn’t yet sure what she likes. It’s for that reason he pays special attention to the way she arches and writhes beneath him.

He tries to imagine her face: beautiful with dreamy eyes half-lidded, her dark skin warm and flush as he licks her, face red with heat.

He tries not to think of her orgasm, however, tries not to remember the way it builds and ripples and shakes her entire body or the slow easy strokes of lazy sex that seem to take away their mornings–he should be writing.

 

So, despite his fantasies and fatigue, Anders tries to focus. His thoughts, however, make another turn. They aren’t about Her, not really, but rather he laments about the dangers of desire and pleasures of the flesh; thoughts, he thinks, must have come from Justice and not himself.

“What would you know,” he mumbles back in slight amusement, a jest which reminds him of his Warden days: back when he and Justice could clash face to face.

Justice, of course, doesn’t answer like before but Anders feels his dismay.

While its true she occasionally distracts him, he’s written more today than he has in a week thanks to the soft bed and warm meals that now fill his belly.

She’s been so good to him, so good for him and he simply wants to thank her for it.

‘You don’t have to thank me, Anders.’ She’d laugh if she heard him, her eyes pools of love and sincerity.

He loves the way she looks at him, her wide eyes full of desire and need, a look that makes his heart stop and start again as though he’s feeling love for the very first time.

He loves the way she gasps and writhes and moans his name as he thrust deep inside—her slick flesh gripping him tightly.

Thanking her like that would be more than a pleasure. In fact, the mere thought their bodies writhing and pushing together made his cock throb and grow hard beneath the table.

He wants to ignore it, he does, but his fantasies grow bolder, louder, and less controlled by the moment.

He wants her.

He wants to be inside her, watching her control melt away as he drives her deep into a speechless frenzy–no he wants to hear her call his name.

“Anders!”

Yes, he wants to make love to her over and over and over again.

“Anders!” He raises his head and looks forward, his heart beating quickly as Justice pushes forward to the edge of his consciousness.

“Hawke-Filia?” He corrects, still unused to calling her by name. Heat rises to his face and he feels Justice retreating.

“Anders?“ she teases him with a beam. She stands before him, her thick hair curling at the edges and more beautiful than any person has the right to be–long legs, wide hips and muscle from years of training and sword fighting. “Are you busy?”

Standing there outside her armor, watching with such eager eyes, Anders can hardly believe he’s been so lucky.

“Anders?”

“Ah.” He hasn’t answered her. “Yes, Love?”

“There you are, I thought I’d lost you—silly man.” She adds, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He recognizes the scent of her favorite cologne with ease—mint, and rain and fresh morning dew—it’s ingrained in her clothing and bed sheets.

“No such luck I’m afraid.” He smiles, hoping to match her love-filled gaze and she laughs, giving his arm a little squeeze that tells him her feelings, ‘I won’t let you go so easily.’

“I’m surprised you’re not busy healing. ” Her touch lingers, her fingers warm against his sleeve.

“It seems I was able to ward away the beginnings of an epidemic yesterday.”

“So you aren’t too busy for a break? Or are you still writing?” She gestures over to the papers on his desk and the piles of parchment that contain his manifesto. “I can come back.”

He shouldn’t, but he knows he can’t focus on writing anyway, not while she’s drawing little pictures on his forearm with her fingers. His arousal pushes hard against his inner thigh, directing his thoughts to his bodily needs.

“What did you have in mind, Love?”

She smiles the way he likes again, her lips curling up into a coy, delightful beam; whatever it is she wants, he knows he’s going to like it.

And he does; they end up in the back room, fucking.


End file.
